Something Beautiful
by BrowsingAbout
Summary: A little oneshot that takes place a few years after the "past" events of The Searcher. A glimpse into Vinnie's life, nothing big. This is a companion to The Searcher...I'm as bad at synopses as I am at coming up with titles! ;) This was going to be "complete" but I recently had a few ideas as to how to add to it so...you never know. If it happens, it'll be a collection of oneshots.


_**Something Beautiful**_

Vinnie dropped a motorcycle magazine over the side of his bed, adding it to the growing pile on the floor. He sighed gustily and glowered at the sunlight pouring in through his open window. He was bored. Completely and utterly bored. No wonder, for he had been up for hours now, staving off his boredom with magazines, music, and motorcycle sketches. There was only one reason why he wasn't long gone by now, running off his endless energy in the beautiful day.

That reason was most likely sitting in the kitchen.

Vinnie picked up his digital clock and stared at it, calculating the possibilities of what would meet him when he did venture downstairs. It was mid-morning, and things had been normal for a few days now. However, it was his late father's birthday, and that was definitely a factor to consider. Vinnie chewed a fingernail, staring up at the ceiling in thought.

"What am I afraid of? I ain't no coward," Vinnie growled, disregarding grammar. Summoning his bravado, Vinnie threw the blankets off and slid out of bed. He stretched his long frame, pausing for a moment to flex and admire his newly developing muscles in the mirror before throwing some on some jeans and an old T-shirt. As he wove a belt around his waist, he looked absently out of his window; a window that still faced that of his dear friend. Normally, an option would be to escape his room via the pulley system that, despite the fact that they never used it anymore, was still intact. However, Rayna's window was shut tightly, for his friend was attending a class on first aide that would last the entire day.

Running his fingers over his short fur and kicking aside assorted shoes, school books, clothes, and take-out containers, he made his way to the door and took a deep breath. She had been normal for days. He could feel optimistic, right? Convincing himself that he could, he opened the door.

The heavy smell of an intoxicated mouse hit him the moment he stepped into the hallway.

Darn.

He lingered a moment at the foot of the stairs, but just as he decided to turn back and attempt to scale down the house through the window, he heard a thick voice call to him.

"Vinnie? You up?" Vinnie sighed and made his way down the stairs.

"Yeah, Mom, it's me. Good morning," he greeted, trying to smile.

His mother looked at him, her breath hitching for a moment and her eyes growing wide. He waited awkwardly for her to realize yet again that he was Vinnie, and not Tread. He had grown to look like his father more and more in the passing years, a fact that was oddly painful for his mother. Sure enough, the hope died from her shadowed eyes when she saw that she was gazing at her son. Every time it happened, Vinnie tried to brush it off and every time he felt hurt regardless.

"Mornin'? Whaddya mean? What time is it?" Shandria asked, turning away from him.

"Almost noon," Vinnie said lightly, opening the pantry. He frowned, seeing that it was almost bare.

"Mmm. Didn't notice," Shandria mumbled. Vinnie glanced over at her, his heart breaking. The woman, his once vibrant, strong mother, had seemed to shrink as the years went by. Her hair was perpetually messy and streaked with gray, and her bright eyes had dimmed and looked out from above dark, sagging circles. The intoxicating, mind numbing martian drink had started as an occasional escape and had become an almost constant companion. There were times when she would suddenly snap out of it, put the bottle away, and struggle to regain her life. Those times were growing shorter and coming less often.

Vinnie averted his eyes as she glanced up at him, not wanting her to see his pity and disappointment.

"Don't look at me like that. You know what day it is?" she asked him pointedly. Vinnie drew in his breath.

"Dad's birthday," he answered quickly. Shandria nodded and tossed back a mouthful of clear liquid from the bottle she was grasping.

"Yeah. Tread's birthday," she said softly, clutching an old photograph and gazing at it almost sightlessly, as if seeing beyond the photo into the memories that consumed her. Vinnie remained silent, pretending to search for something to eat, but in reality searching his thoughts for something to say. The smell of drink mingled with the dirty dishes in the sink made him sick. He knew he should stay home and clean up, or spend time with his mother but there was a panic rising within him. He had to get out and run it off or he would explode. Vinnie closed the pantry door, ignoring his grumbling stomach.

"I'm going to go out for a bit," Vinnie said, trying to sound cheerful. "I'll, um, I'll go get us some food too," he promised, not knowing where he was to get the money. Shandria looked up, frowning sharply.

"So you're leaving me. Everyone's left me. Just like Tread," she muttered, jabbing a finger at the photograph. Rage suddenly swelled within Vinnie, but he suppressed it and tried to find a jacket.

"I'll be right back, Mom, it's alright," he said quickly.

"Sure, sure," she said with a wave of her hand. He flashed a brief smile at her and began to head out the door, but before he reached it, he realized that she had followed him. Vinnie turned and looked at her questioningly, with one hand on the doorknob.

"Vinnie," she said, swaying unsteadily and pointing her half empty bottle at him. "Don't ever fall in love. You hear me? Don't _ever_ fall in love." She shook her bottle at him again.

"Sure, Mom," he said, and left the house.

Vinnie breathed deeply of the Martian air, still fresh and scented with the oncoming of relatively warmer weather. The Putarkians had given up on stealth and the Martians had stopped listening to their excuses, and war had actually broken out. However, their area of the world had remained largely unaffected thus far. Trees still offered their wide leaves for shade, and flowers still sprouted here and there. Though the neighborhood was emptier, children still occasionally played in the streets and citizens still drove freely on their motorcycles.

Vinnie slid on his own motorcycle, one that was faster and a little more professional now that he was fifteen. His _real_ motorcycle, one that he was pouring time and money into when ever he could get either, was parked safely in the garage, sitting quietly under a sheet. He revved his bike and swerved gracefully onto the street, enjoying the wind in his fur and the feeling of exhilaration that coursed through his veins. The dark oppression of his home was behind him now.

His initial thought was to seek out Thrash, who would logically be at his cousin's house. However, when he pulled up to the yard, it seemed oddly quiet. Vinnie tilted his head in thought and was just about to approach the door to knock when a figure appeared from around back. He squinted, then smiled and waved.

"Hey, Dianthia," he greeted the older woman. Dianthia dropped the heavy bag she was carrying and wiped her forehead before returning the greeting.

"Hi, Vinnie, how are you?" she called, tilting back her wide brimmed hat. Vinnie shrugged.

"Alright. Hey, is Thrash around?"

"No, I'm sorry, but he's not. He went with Renee to a meeting," Dianthia said regretfully. Vinnie raised his eyebrows.

"A meeting? Sounds boring," he responded dubiously.

"Well, it's about war and creating Freedom Fighting teams as opposed to just letting the Army do the job…he didn't think you would be interested in sitting through it. He said he'd give you the condensed version. Personally, I think he's just interested because of Graven," Dianthia explained, clearly trying to be optimistic. She watched as Vinnie's shoulders sagged.

"Oh," he said vaguely. He shoved his hands in his pockets. Renee, Thrash, and Rayna were all away, Graven and his friend Modo were off fighting somewhere, and Throttle was in a training course set up by Stoker. Vinnie had desperately wanted to join with Throttle but his mother's voice always echoed in his ears…

_"So you're leaving me too?"_

Vinnie kicked at the dirt.

Dianthia surveyed him, sliding gardening gloves on her hands.

"I think I'm going to go take a ride," Vinnie said vaguely, easing himself down to his bike.

"Well, while you're here, you should come and help me pull some weeds," Dianthia said in that motherly, commanding way she had. She stooped down next to a plot of dirt and gestured at him to join. "Come on, pick up some gloves and help." Since no one argued with Dianthia and since he didn't have anything better to do, Vinnie pushed down the kickstand of his bike and wandered over to her side.

It was then that he noticed the baskets of flowers and plants, of every size and color, which she had in her basket. The ground that she was going to plant in was perfect save for the fact that it had been overrun with weeds. Wrinkling his nose, Vinnie fell to the task of digging the weeds out and tossing them aside while Dianthia worked the ground with a trowel. They fell into a steady routine and time slipped by easily. Dianthia chatted casually about her family; about how she had communicated recently with Graven over a vidcom and about how Zebbie had suddenly shot up several inches in height. Suddenly, Vinnie sat back on his heels and threw one of the weeds on the ground.

"Dianthia, why are you doing this?" he blurted out, hardly realizing that he had cut her off. "I mean, what's the point of planting all of these flowers? You can't eat flowers. They won't do anything to protect you. So what's the point?" Dianthia gazed at him out of keen, silver eyes and knew with all the wisdom that raising three boys had given her that this called for something far more than a simple, offhand explanation to brush off his demand. She thought for a moment, turning the deep red soil over with her trowel.

Vinnie, who was sitting in a somewhat dejected fashion, didn't even expect an answer and was startled when she spoke to him in a tone that he had never heard her use.

"Let me tell you something, Vinnie. My oldest son, my baby who has been forced to grow up, is fighting to save a piece of land from invaders who, without even knowing him, would have no qualms about killing him. My Zebbie, the bright spot that he is, is trying so hard to cheer everyone up and stay hopeful, but when he thinks I'm not looking has a look of such dejection that my heart breaks for him. My little Mackie doesn't understand a thing but is going to grow up in a world that is fighting for survival. And today my Thrash, who is as much as my son as my other boys, is out at some meeting, probably planning to join up with Graven when his time comes. On and on. And Vinnie," here she looked at him intently, "don't think I don't know the nightmare you're living right now."

Vinnie lowered his head, abashed at her directness. To his surprise she tilted his chin up, a gesture that he had noticed in her interactions with her children.

"Sweetie, in a world like this, everyone needs something beautiful. Planting some flowers provides that for me, and I'm not ashamed for needing it. If we stopped loving and needing the beautiful things, then our freedom wouldn't be worth fighting for anymore. And Vinnie, it's okay to want something beautiful or meaningful…something that is just for you."

Dianthia fell silent and Vinnie spoke not a word, staring intently at a weed he was pulling to shreds.

"What if…" his voice faltered and he cleared his throat. "What if I can't go after what I really want?" Dianthia nodded at his question and quietly planted another flower before answering.

"Vinnie," she said, choosing her words carefully. "If you find that you ever need to go away from home, then Cannon and I will take care of your mother for as long as we can. And that's all I'm going to say." Vinnie gaped at her, and Dianthia flashed him a sunny smile. "Look at this flower!" she exclaimed, and Vinnie grinned broadly, gazing at the large, bright yellow petals of the plant.

Hope blossomed in his chest, a feeling he hadn't felt since his mother began to sink into her pit. When Thrash pulled up alongside them and plopped to the ground, demanding to know what Vinnie was doing weeding when he could be out riding his bike, Vinnie's laughing response puzzled him.

"What do you think I'm doing, genius? I'm making something beautiful!"

Thrash scratched his head, and Vinnie and Dianthia shared a smile.

_The End_


End file.
